Page 35 of Lord Ashley's Beautiful Alibi
“Has she done that before?”
“Yes.” She drew back. “I must go. If you won’t help me, I go alone. I must. It has been weeks since she disappeared. I cannot fail her. And I must tell you one more thing. You will be surprised.”
“Out with it now, then. What is it?”
“Amber was my friend with me on the Malmaison road that morning.”
His mouth fell open. “Is that so?” He paused, frowning as if he were trying to recall Amber’s looks. “She did not see me that day. How will she react to a British fellow looking for her?”
“She won’t object.”
He nodded. “Good, then. I will help you. We will tell others we go in the next few days.”
“Why not tomorrow? We must go soon.”
“Because you worry so much about her, and because…why?”
She had to tell him more. “Her life depends on it.”
He stared at her as he imbibed that. “I see. However, to create the impression that you and I are intimate takes time and exposure.”
“Do you come to Madame Tallien’s salon tonight?”
“I do. I accepted.” He kept stroking her cheeks, his thumbs big and warm, making her insides quiver.
“Wonderful,” she said, grinning. “Thank you.” And at that, she made to rise.
A hand to her wrist, he waylaid her. He threw her a sidelong look, his magnificent eyes laughing. “You wish to wait to start this act?”
Her body warmed at the prospect of having him hold her again. Her nipples hardened, and in her stomach, desire stirred. She clamped her thighs together and hated the fact that after all these years of abstinence, she was succumbing to the lure of a charming man. “It will be exciting if we build the anticipation, don’t you think?”
“I anticipate enough now.” He wound his arms around her back. “If you don’t, a small sample might help you.”
“No. I—”
But he stood and swept her up off the bench into his arms. With stern determination on his face, he strode with her to a settee. There he set her down and put her on her back to the arm of the plush furniture.
She was thrilled. She was flummoxed. She summoned her gumption and lied like a murderer without hope at his hanging. “I don’t want to do this.”
“Ha! Is that so?” He came over her, his long, strong legs twined with her thighs. He tipped up her chin and brushed his fingers over the swell of her lips.
“It is.”
“Really? Or do you tell me tales with your lips”—he widened his eyes at her, then sent them down her bodice—“while your body tells me other stories?”
“I am not yours to have. Not now—and not during our bargain.”
He threw back his head to laugh, but it was short. And his anger was not pretty. “You offer me only help with my negotiations for the service I render you?”
She bit her lower lip.
He stared at it. “I see. I get short-changed, don’t you think?”
Was he joking or serious? She could not decide. “Not completely. I will be an entertaining companion and give you good recommendations.”
He snorted. “I should be honored.”
“You should.”
